Art of the Con: Carter Peterson Mystery Series Book 6 Read online

  Art Of The Con

  Carter Peterson Mystery Series Book 6

  by

  Al Boudreau

  Copyright 2017

  Query Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved

  Art Of The Con is a work of fiction.

  Names, places, and events are either products of the author’s

  imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual

  events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 1

  I couldn’t help but wonder, as I sat across from my partner Sarah Woods inside our new client’s home; what was it about Professor Benjamin Reynolds that had tipped off the con artists responsible for the financial world-of-hurt he now found himself in? How had these reprobates known Reynolds would eventually grant them access to everything? Bank accounts. Investments. Assets.

  It was a given that Reynolds, like all victims of confidence schemes, had allowed himself to be manipulated. To give in to the dastardly duo con artists count on to separate marks from their money: need and greed. Problem was, Reynolds had handed the proverbial keys to the castle over to some cunning lot without asking himself an important question: what was in it for them?

  I’d learned plenty about fraud victims during time spent as a beat cop on the streets of Boston. Bottom line: most folks believe they’re simply too smart to fall for a scam; which ends up being their first mistake. The majority of people in this world---whether surgeon, lawyer, or college professor---are vulnerable to being swindled, given the right con artist and the right set of circumstances.

  The most important lesson to learn about those who carry out cons is that they don’t care how smart you are; they’re only concerned with how emotional you are. Granted, emotional needs are a big part of what make us human, but the general common thread amongst fraud victims is that they’re unable to put those needs aside while making important financial decisions.

  Sadly, con artists are experts at getting your emotions involved while convincing you there’s money to be made.

  Reynolds hadn’t struck me as an overly emotional person during our initial consultation last night. Maybe he’d put on a brave face during our man-to-man, not wanting to show his sensitive side. However, as he brought Sarah up to speed with the same tale of woe he’d shared less than 12 hours before, I now witnessed a certain vulnerability in the guy.

  It was my first clue as to why the con he’d fallen for had been so effective up until the moment he realized he’d been had: the only person he’d been able to single out as a player happened to be a young woman.

  Today’s meeting also confirmed Reynolds had a second key attribute con artists look for in a mark: he was well-off. When we’d met last night, my first impression told me he might have a few bucks socked away; his fancy clothes and the exclusive whiskey bar he’d chosen, both pretty reliable indicators. However, the ornate woodwork surrounding us inside the custom-built mahogany library nestled within his 5,800 square foot home drove the point home; he was a swindler’s wet dream.

  They’d definitely seen Reynolds coming from a mile away.

  “Carter,” Sarah said. “Ben thinks he’s covered all the pieces with me, everything you two talked about last night. Do we have any other questions for him before he heads to the university?”

  “I have but a few minutes left,” Reynolds interjected. “I mustn’t be late for my ten o’clock lecture.”

  “Just a couple more questions and we’ll be out of your hair,” I replied, the statement earning me an odd, clenched-jaw stare from Sarah. I didn’t understand why until I turned back toward our client---at which point I was reminded that he was nearly bald. I looked down at the table, cleared my throat, and continued. “Professor Reynolds, you mentioned last night that the only person you suspect is involved in this situation is a woman named Melody.”

  “Yes, that’s correct,” he replied. “Melody Savin. She’s a grad student at the university.”

  “Just to be clear … Ms. Savin is the only individual you shared your financial information with, correct?”

  “Yes,” he said while reaching inside his jacket pocket. “In fact, here’s a copy of the snapshot you asked for last night. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only image of her I have. She was unaware of my presence when I took it.”

  I glanced at the photo, handed it to Sarah, then sat back and let go a sigh. “Professor, Ms. Savin is likely the closer; the person who gets you to hand over your money. I don’t need you to answer this question right now, as I know you’re pressed for time. But, this is important. Is there anyone else you can think of who is new in your life? A colleague? An acquaintance? Maybe even a salesperson? Someone you’ve recently done business with for the first time?” The blank stare Reynolds gave me wasn’t a good sign. “Professor, there’s a high probability this Melody Savin character isn’t the only player involved. When it comes to long cons, the closer’s role generally comes into play late in the game. Chances are, a number of other individuals were involved early on, during what’s known as the foundation work. Sorry to have to break this to you, but the scheme you’re caught up in probably began months before this Savin woman ever made herself known to you.”

  Reynolds shook his head then began massaging his temples, the deep frown on his face telling me this case was going to be a challenging slog. He sat motionless for a beat, then slid his chair out and stood up. “I’ll think hard on your inquiry once I’ve satisfied today’s obligations. Thank you both for your time this morning. Sarah, it was a distinct pleasure meeting you.” He motioned toward the entry hall. “I’ll see you out now.”

  Chapter 2

  Sarah stopped and turned once we’d walked a short distance away from the ornate entry of Benjamin Reynolds’s home, taking a few seconds to check out the snow-covered surroundings one more time before returning to my car. “Man, this property is excessive. The house. The yard. It’s totally out of control.”

  I nodded. “To us maybe, but don’t forget where we are. Most folks who live up here in Prescott Heights probably view his place as a starter home.”

  Sarah laughed as she turned to me. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s all relative. Let’s face it, you don’t get to live on the most exclusive street in Bridgeport unless you’re loaded. This Reynolds guy is clearly an intelligent man, and seems to have made some good decisions in life. Makes me wonder how the heck he got caught up in this financial mess we’re about to start mucking around in?”

  I opened the car door for Sarah then went around and got behind the wheel. “Simple. The scumbags who are trying to separate Reynolds from his money managed to figure out his weakness, which caused him to let his guard down.”

  Sarah laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
r />   “Yeah, well … let’s not get carried away.”

  “OK, so tell me. What’s the professor’s weakness?”

  I smiled and started the car, keeping Sarah in suspense until we got under way. “You.”

  Sarah furrowed her brow, which told me I’d been a little too vague.

  “Not you, personally,” I added. “Women, in general. He obviously has a soft-spot for the ladies. ”

  It took Sarah a few seconds to respond. “Hope this theory of yours is based on more than just the idea he was smitten with me. Obviously, there’s more, right?”

  “Naturally,” I replied. “Sure, I watched him go weak-in-the-knees as soon as he laid eyes on you. But, the real tell was how he spoke. There was a … a certain sensitivity. It wasn’t there when he told me the whole tale of woe last night.”

  “So, you’re saying you think Reynolds is the submissive type when it comes to women.”

  “Yep. That’s a good word. I’m telling you, the people who pull these scams are smart and seasoned. They can afford to take their time with these elaborate setups. My point being, they knew to send in a woman to get this guy on the hook.”

  “Us girls can be pretty persuasive,” Sarah said.

  “True. Fact is, this Reynolds situation reminds me of one of my favorite quotes; a clergyman named E. R. Beadle said it back in the mid-1800s. ‘Half the work that is done in this world is to make things appear what they are not.’”

  “Sounds about right,” Sarah said. “So … you’re thinking the con artists used a pretty young thing to get Reynolds emotionally involved, then went after his money.”

  I looked over at her and nodded.

  “Did he go into more detail with you last night? About the actual mechanics of the scam, I mean. Did this woman offer Reynolds a specific investment opportunity in order to access his financials?”

  “Not exactly. She told him she’d pursued a dual-major during her undergraduate studies; liberal arts, which is directly related to his teaching career, and international finance, which he admitted he knew little about. Apparently, he allowed her to assess where he parked his money, in hope of gaining a higher yield.”

  “In other words, she appealed to his greedy side.”

  “You got it.”

  Sarah shrugged. “You’ve dealt with these fraud cases way more than I have. I’ve got to defer to you on this one. I trust your instincts.”

  “You might not feel the same way once I tell you what I have in mind. As far as your role in this case goes, I mean.”

  Sarah stared at me and smirked. “C’mon, Carter. You say stuff like this at the beginning of every job, but I always rise to the occasion. You know I love a challenge.”

  “Have it your way,” I said with a side glance. “I’m thinking we should send you off to college.”

  It took Sarah a second or two to grasp what I meant. She began laughing when it finally hit her. “No way! That’s awesome.”

  “Come on, now,” I said with a straight face. “Attending university is no joke. You’ll need to apply yourself. Study hard.”

  She laughed then said, “All kidding aside, sometimes I think about it, for real. You know, maybe taking some more criminal justice classes.”

  I gave her a smile. “I don’t think they offer that particular curriculum here in town. I think of Fulford University as more of a hoity-toity liberal arts college.”

  “That’s because it is,” she said. “Oh well, guess working on getting a real degree will have to wait. So, what’s our angle going to be at the university? I mean, how’s a woman in her mid-forties going to blend in with a bunch of kids?”

  “Haven’t quite figured that part out yet,” I replied.

  “OK. Well, what exactly are we looking to accomplish by having me inside the university? Sounds to me like this Melody Savin character is long gone.”

  I wheeled the car into one of our local filling stations and shut the motor down before responding. “She may be gone for now. But, as Reynolds said to me last night, the involved parties are at an impasse.”

  “Reynolds said his wife was the one who figured out someone was trying to rip them off, but he was pretty vague about the circumstances. Did he go into more detail with you at your meeting?”

  “Yes, and no. He said it was important that we find this girl quickly, because he doesn’t want to admit his stupidity to his wife.”

  “He hasn’t told her about this Savin woman?” Sarah asked.

  “Nope.”

  “This isn’t sounding good, Carter. Was he cheating on his wife with this girl?”

  “I asked him that, straight-up. He didn’t give me a definitive answer. Just said Savin means nothing to him, and that he loves his wife very much.”

  Sarah nodded, lips pursed, then said, “Uh-huh. He’s cheating, all right. Sounds to me like he wants to get this whole thing resolved before his wife discovers the truth.”

  “Hold that thought,” I said as I swung the door open and climbed out to fill the tank. I thought about Sarah’s response as the fuel pump clicked and buzzed. I’d come to the same conclusion about Reynolds last night, but deliberately kept my thoughts to myself until getting Sarah’s take.

  It’s not uncommon for a new client to hold back bits and pieces of information early in a case---especially when that information casts a bad light on them. However, once a little desperation sets in, the truth generally comes pouring out.

  I hung the nozzle up, grabbed my receipt, and climbed back in behind the wheel.

  “I didn’t quite understand Reynolds’s explanation of how his wife discovered someone was trying to rip them off,” Sarah continued.

  “Apparently, this Savin woman put together enough information to gain access to several accounts Reynolds hadn’t told her about. She was just one step away from draining an account with a little over a million and a half dollars in it, when she hit a snag she wasn’t counting on. The broker who set up this particular account for our client included a safeguard, where two separate authentications were required before any monies could be disbursed. When Savin---and, probably a crew of con artists--tried to transfer the funds, the broker contacted Reynolds’s wife. She, in turn, questioned the professor about it.”

  “Oops.”

  “Yep,” I said. “Oops, for everyone involved.”

  Sarah began tapping her foot against the inside of the car door. “You’re one hundred percent convinced this girl’s not working alone?”

  I started the car and pulled away from the pumps. “I am. Never seen a long con that didn’t have a lot of moving parts. Typically takes at least several conniving sliders to pull this kind of job off.”

  “So, just to be clear, are you saying it would be impossible for Savin to be working alone?”

  “Not much that’s really impossible in this world,” I replied. “Let’s just say that she’d have to be extraordinarily talented, experienced, and have a massive amount of luck working in her favor to succeed. Let’s not forget, we’re talking about a woman in her twenties. Not many years to develop the kind of chops needed to attempt a multi-million dollar haul.”

  “Fair enough,” Sarah said. “Where are we headed?”

  “The university. Figured we’d go over there and brainstorm for a bit. Then, maybe have you pay a visit to the admissions office.”

  “Wait. Are you thinking I’m actually going to enroll?”

  “Nah. Most schools give a certain number of folks the opportunity to audit classes.”

  “Oh … right. I never thought of that,” Sarah said. “Good call.”

  “Now that we have a photo of this Savin girl, we know exactly who we’re looking for.”

  Sarah pulled the snapshot out and studied it. “I can see why Reynolds let himself be seduced by this girl. She’s beautiful.”

  “Yep. So are Venus Flytraps to insects … until they get eaten alive.”

  Chapter 3

  I wheeled the car into an empty parking spot adjacent to F
ulford University’s admissions office, surprised by the degree of activity surrounding the place. “Is it just me, or do all these kids look like they’re about fourteen years old?”

  Sarah laughed. “They do. Guess the older we get, the younger they look.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

  “Yeah, well, the truth usually brings a little pain,” Sarah said. “Anyway, getting back to this Savin girl. How tall would you say she is?”

  I took the picture from Sarah and studied it for a beat. “Five foot four to five foot six would be my guess. She has great proportions, so it’s hard to tell, for sure.”

  Sarah nodded. “I was guessing five foot four, so we’re on the same page. Her hair is on the blondish brown side. How about her weight? One ten. One fifteen?”

  “Safe bet,” I replied. “She’s pretty thin.”

  “Oh, to be in our twenties again,” Sarah said.

  “I wouldn’t trade the present for anything. Happiest I’ve ever been.”

  Sarah smiled. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

  “You should. It’s all your fault.”

  “Did Reynolds mention whether or not he did any digging to find out what information the university has on this girl?”

  “Said he didn’t. But, I doubt the information she provided is based on a single word of truth. Including her name. Part and parcel of a successful long con includes establishing fake histories then getting them into the appropriate databases. These people are pros when it comes to subterfuge.”

  “There you go with your fancy spy words again,” Sarah said with a straight face.

  “Makes me feel smart.”

  “Then, you’ll probably have a smart answer for my next question. If this girl never shows her face around here again, how the heck do we find her?”

  “Run her image through a few major facial recognition programs.”